


Change of Plans

by peachgrove



Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Epilepsy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protectiveness, Road Trips, Seizures, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachgrove/pseuds/peachgrove
Summary: “I wouldn’t have reacted so...dramatically if it hadn’t been for,” he pauses to look down at his hands, playing with his nails, “things...that have happened earlier.”Armie bites his tongue when he wants to defend Timmy again, wanting to scream, you’re not dramatic! But he knows there’s no getting through to him. So instead, he encourages him, “What things?”orTimmy finally opens up to Armie about his past on their road trip to Idaho. It uncovers some dark secretes Armie couldn't even imagine.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723651
Comments: 22
Kudos: 130





	Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning, this one is very dark! there's a lot of angst here. please read the tags carefully!  
> <3

“Armie, you really think that mattress is going to fit?” Timmy says as he crosses his arms with a grin. He chuckles as he watches his boyfriend try to shove the tiny bed into the back of their rental van.

Armie huffs, exhausted from trying to fit the mattress into the van. “Yes, Timmy. I do. Just...Just give me a second. I’ll figure it out.”

Timmy tries to cover his mouth as he laughs while Armie just rolls his eyes. “You know, we could just rent a hotel room when we need to stop like any normal couple would do on their one year anniversary.”

Armie stops his movements for a second to glance over his shoulder at the younger boy who’s trying so hard to suppress a smile. Armie finds it difficult to do too. “Yes, but those people don’t know romance like I do, babe. Just picture it: driving across the country in some shitty white van that will probably break down on us half way through the trip, parking at some random campsite in the midwest to lay on a rock hard mattress in the back of said van, looking at the stars, telling each other secrets, kissing the night away--”

“Okay, now you’re just getting sappy,” Timmy butts in, though a blush has started to creep across his face.

“You love it,” Armie says, egging him on. It only makes Timmy blush more.

“Or we could have a just as romantic time for our anniversary right here at home. There are plenty of things to do in New York,” Timmy says.

“Yes, but how many of those things have you already done?” Armie inquires, knowing the answer. Timmy was born and raised in New York. He was a natural city kid. He highly doubts there’s even one thing in the-city-that-never-sleeps that Timmy has yet to see.

“My point is,” Timmy says as he comes up behind Armie, wrapping his arms around the older’s waist and burying his nose in the man’s shirt, “we don’t have to go somewhere all fancy and vacation-like to celebrate. We could just enjoy each other’s company, like we always do.”

Armie turns around in Timmy’s arms, now facing the boy who looks up at him with a weary smile. And he has to admit, Timmy is right. He would be perfectly fine being anywhere for the anniversary as long as he’s with Timmy. But he still jokes in response, “And what, not take advantage of that beautiful cabin your parents have in Idaho? In early March? You’re telling me you don’t want to get snowed in together? Nah, baby, we’re going road tripping!”

With that, he pulls himself out of Timmy’s arms and turns around to give the mattress one last shove into the back of the van. The bed finally slides all the way in, pushing up against the two front seats. It truly takes up every inch of the back, but nonetheless, it fits.

“Ha! What’d I say?” Armie says, dramatically brushing his hands off as he looks at the mattress, proud of himself.

Timmy only grins sadly, not looking completely convinced. 

“Hey,” Armie whispers, grabbing Timmy’s shoulder to get his attention. “I know you’re nervous about traveling this far, but...it’ll be okay. If anything happens, I’ll be there,” he says, clearly referring to Timmy’s epilepsy. Armie has had to handle a few of Timmy’s seizures at this point, and while they don’t get easier to witness, he is much more confident in handling them. “Let’s just… We can enjoy ourselves, right? Don’t you think?”

Timmy glances up at him before suddenly leaning forward to nuzzle his face against Armie’s neck, scrunching his freckled nose. “Yeah, we can,” he whispers back, pulling Armie closer to him by the sides of his shirt.

“Good,” Armie says, pulling back to give Timmy a sweet kiss on the lips. “Now, let’s get going, shall we? If we leave now we can get to Chicago by 10 tonight!”

Timmy’s laugh fills the air as Armie finally loads their two small suitcases into the van as well, right on top of the sheeted mattress, mounted with heaps of pillows and blankets. They pack light because they don’t need much. They really only need each other.

And soon after that, they were on their way. Idaho, here they come.

\--

It’s when they’re halfway through Ohio that Armie feels his eyes getting heavy. He blinks continuously to try to get the sleepiness away, trying to focus on the sound of Timmy’s music coming from the speakers, even cracking the window a little to let some cold air in in the hopes of it startling him awake.

None of it seems to really work, and soon Timmy becomes aware of Armie’s exhaustion.

The younger glances over at his boyfriend with a worried expression on his face. Timmy turns the music down and reaches over to cup Armie’s cheek. “Hey,” he says just over a whisper. Armie can feel the worry oozing from his pores. “You okay? You look kinda tired.”

Armie takes his eyes away from the road for a second to offer his lover a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I kinda am, to be honest,” he admits, the comforting feeling of Timmy’s thumb grazing his cheek bone not helping much with the drowsiness.

“Oh,” Timmy responds, seemingly not sure how to respond to that. He looks down at his lap, almost ashamed before blurting, “I’m sorry I can’t drive. I know it would make this trip much easier.”

Armie registers the guilt in his voice and is quick to tame it. “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s not your fault that you can’t drive.” Timmy’s seizures have been too frequent in the past year for him to be allowed to legally operate a vehicle.

Timmy suddenly removes his hand from Armie’s face, burying his fingers between his legs, eyes cast down at his lap. “I know, it’s just that… This trip was my idea and I can’t even… I feel bad for making you drive.”

Armie glances over, seeing a dark look covering his boyfriends features. His heart breaks for the boy because he knows that it must be frustrating to want to do the simplest things but always having a disability that has to get in the way. It’s a feeling Armie has fortunately never had to feel, but seeing Timmy feel it makes it hurt all the same.

Armie places his hand on Timmy’s thigh, grabbing the younger’s attention. “You’re not making me do anything, Tim. Hell, the road trip part of all this was my idea.” Timmy doesn’t meet his eye. He continues, “Don’t feel bad, babe. I’m just a little tired.” Timmy still looks unconvinced.

Armie watches as Timmy keeps quiet for a few seconds before he finally grabs Armie’s hand from his thigh and holds it between both of his. “Can you at least...pull into a rest stop or something? Just to take a quick power nap? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”

Armie smiles a little to himself, not missing the way that Timmy isn’t concerned with his boyfriend falling asleep behind the wheel, but rather with Armie feeling uncomfortable. It shows the kind of person Timmy is; someone who’s always thinking of others before himself. And it also shows their trust, being that Timmy knows Armie wouldn’t fall asleep behind the wheel because he would never put Timmy into a dangerous situation. Ever. 

He grips his lover’s hand a little tighter, letting him know he cares. “Yeah, we can do that. Can you look up the next closest rest stop?”

Timmy nods and eagerly looks for the information on his phone, searching up rest stops in his map. “Here’s one. It’s about ten minutes up the road,” Timmy says, handing his phone to Armie and taking Armie’s phone away, not even giving him the option of continuing the drive.

Armie chuckles at the boy’s insistence and follows the GPS to their next location: a shitty resting stop off of I-70 West.

\--

“Wake me up if you need anything,” Armie says as he crawls into the back of the van and onto the lousy mattress. Any other time, this mattress would have felt like a lump of rocks, but right now, to Armie’s sleep-deprived body, it feels like laying on a cloud.

Timmy looks over his shoulder behind the passenger seat. “Take as long as you need. We don’t have a schedule to hit or anything.”

As Armie crawls under the covers and lays his head on the scratchy pillow case, he mumbles, “No, no. I already set an alarm to wake me up. This shouldn’t set us back more than two hours.”

Timmy huffs from the front. Armie can just imagine the little wrinkle forming between his brows as he becomes agitated. It makes Armie smile from under the covers. “Armie, I really don’t think that’s gonna be enough sleep.”

Armie grins. “For once, Timmy, I don’t really care what you think.”

“But--”

“I can’t hear you. I’m sleeping,” Armie says in a sing-songy voice to shut Timmy up, though he can’t help but feel a warm spread inside. It makes him happy. This. His life. With Timmy.

Timmy finally shuts his mouth after that, seemingly not wanting to disturb Armie any further. The older knows Timmy would beat himself up if he knew he was the reason Armie couldn't get enough rest. He beats himself up over inconveniencing anyone in any way.

It makes him think back to when Timmy had ordered a steak at one of New York’s finest steakhouses. The boy had asked for it to be cooked medium-well, but the meat had come to him bordering on raw. Timmy couldn’t even take a bite of his meal because he couldn’t stomach the amount of pink meat. Armie finally called over the waiter after many of Timmy’s pleads for Armie to just leave it. When the waiter went to take the plate from Timmy, apologizing profusely, Timmy had muttered, “Yeah, sorry about that,” as if he had been the problem. It made Armie laugh, and still does to this day.

Armie eventually drifts off with that thought in his head, a sweet memory of Timmy. 

He’s not sure how long he was in his blissful state, but it seems like no time before he jolts awake at the sound of one of the front doors slamming shut, followed by the sounds of panting.

Armie sits up a bit on his elbow, squinting into the front seat. It’s dark now, and there’s not much light but the brightness coming from the flickering lamps outside. “Timmy?” he whispers, not sure why he does.

He’s only answered with more panting and shortness of breath coming from his boyfriend who remains in the front seat. Immediately, Armie is on high alert, fearing that Timmy might be having a panic attack of some kind. It was something that his boyfriend only dealt with every once in a while, but when he did, it was bad.

“Timmy, baby?” Armie says as he frantically reaches for the light over his head and the van instantly lights up. 

The sight he’s met with doesn’t calm his nerves. He sees Timmy wound up tight in the driver’s seat for some reason, shoulders pulled to his ears and chest heaving panicked breaths. The boy looks around outside in a jerky motion, almost as if someone was chasing him and he’s prepared to flee the scene if necessary. 

Armie can see him trembling, and he reaches out to touch the boy’s arm right away. He’s met with a terrified gasp and a brutal flinch as Timmy turns around to look at his boyfriend. Fear is encased in his wide eyes, seemingly scared of Armie’s presence.

Armie instantly pulls his hand back and holds it up in surrender. He watches his boyfriend carefully as he pulls the covers off of him and crawls into a sitting position, his head grazing the ceiling of the van in such a small space.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Armie says as he watches Timmy continue to shake. Continue to take in ragged breaths. “Tim, what the hell is going on? Are you alright?”

Before Timmy can answer, a car door slams shut from outside and makes the boy jump out of his skin. Without another second wasted, Timmy launches himself into the back of the van onto the mattress with Armie, immediately curling into his chest. He still hasn’t caught his breath.

“Shhh, shhh, just breathe, Timmy. Breathe,” Armie says as he holds the trembling boy against his chest, the younger’s curls tucked under his chin.

“There was...There…” Timmy tries, though his panting betrays him.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Catch your breath first. Deep breaths, honey,” Armie encourages, extremely confused himself. He has no idea what could’ve startled Timmy.

The only sound filling the van is Armie’s soft shushes and Timmy’s sad attempts at breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth like his therapist had told him. It’s not that easy, Armie remembers Timmy telling him one time after a particularly back attack. I still feel like I’m dying, he had cried.

Eventually, his breathing somehow slows, but his shaking doesn’t let up. It worries Armie. He’s still semi-new to Timmy’s epilepsy. Will this trigger a seizure?

“Calm down, calm down,” Armie says, being sure not to sound like he’s commanding Timmy to relax. “You’ve gotta tell me what’s wrong, Tim.”

Timmy finally lifts his head up then, his eyes still bugging out of his head as he frantically scans the area outside for something Armie can’t fathom. His eyes are wet with tears, and Armie doesn’t know if it’s from sadness or fright.

“I went to the bathroom. Inside--I went in there. It happened in the bathroom,” Timmy mumbles. He’s not making any sense, and Armie tries hard to understand his words.

“What? What happened in the bathroom, Timmy?” Armie asks, desperate to make sense of it all.

Timmy sits up a bit so he can see more of the area outside. It’s like he’s expecting someone to charge at the van at any moment. It makes Armie so confused and quite frankly a little scared himself. When Timmy speaks, it sounds more like he’s talking to himself and that Armie’s presence is a distance memory. “The man, he,” a harsh swallow, “he came up to me in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Armie says, grabbing Timmy’s face into both hands, making the boy look him in the eyes. Timmy shakes under his touch, but anchors his gaze onto Armie as if he’s the only thing holding him down to earth. “Who was this man? Did you know him?” Armie questions. He’s trying to get more information out of Timmy without startling him more.

“No!” Timmy shouts, most likely not meaning to. “No, I didn’t know him!”

“Shhh, shhh,” Armie says as he tucks Timmy’s curls behind his ears on either side of his head. “What did he do? Did he say something?”

Timmy huffs, seemingly frustrated at the jumbled story telling himself. He looks like he wants to tell Armie, but he can’t bring himself to say it to him coherently. “I-I went to the bathroom and there was a man in there. He...He like...He looked me up and down and then he pushed me when he was walking out, and I was...I was confused. So I said what the hell and then he just got all in my face and called me a…”

Armie stiffens, bracing himself for Timmy’s words.

“He called me a fa…” Timmy can’t even say the word himself. “And then he bumped into my shoulder and left.”

And Armie is just absolutely on fire. He is enraged at this whole situation. The assault. The slur. The trauma Timmy went through. It makes him irate that people have the nerve to act that way to others. And for what? To help their own bruised ego? It was sick and twisted, and Timmy just so happened to be the brunt of it. 

If it were to happen to Armie, he would’ve socked the man right in his mouth, but Timmy isn’t Armie. He’s not that way. And Armie just hates that it had to happen to his boyfriend of all people. His boyfriend who wouldn’t hurt a fly. His boyfriend who always begs Armie to take the spiders that scare the living shit out of him outside of their apartment instead of simply squashing them. That boyfriend.

It’s so unfair.

“Where is he?” Armie asks, suddenly dying to break the man’s face. “Did you see where he went?”

Timmy tries to turn his head to look around again, but Armie doesn’t let him. He keeps his hands planted on the boy’s cheeks, making him face forward. “He...I don’t know. I think he left. I don’t know…”

Armie tries to contain his anger by clenching his teeth and not letting the bitter words that are stirring in his mind to slip out. 

Suddenly, Timmy sniffles, the tears welling in his eyes welling up until they are insurmountable. He suppresses a sob as he whimpers, “I didn’t do anything, Armie.”

Armie’s heart breaks, his anger now replaced with sadness. He pulls Timmy against him again, feeling the boy begin to shake again but this time it’s from holding back his tears. “Oh, baby. I know you didn’t. I know. It’s not fair.”

“I-I didn’t even say anything to him,” Timmy croaks.

“Shhh, shhh,” Armie hushes.

They sit there for a few minutes until Armie can get Timmy to calm down again. Once Armie realizes that Timmy’s breathing has finally left its shallow state, he makes a suggestion that pains him to say. Not because their vacation will be cut short if Timmy agrees, but because he knows Timmy will be disappointed. The boy had been looking forward to this trip for months.

“We could...go back to New York, if you want?” Armie says cautiously, trying to gauge Timmy’s reaction. So far so good. “We haven’t gotten that far. We could always turn around.”

Timmy shakes his head then, burying his face further into Armie’s neck. “No, that’ll...that’ll ruin the trip.”

Armie hesitates. “Well...that’s okay. We can always go to the cabin another time? You know, just spend this anniversary at home?”

“No,” Timmy responds wearily. “You really wanted to go. I don’t want to turn back now.”

Armie chuckles, turning his head to the side to nose into Timmy’s ear. “This isn’t just about me, silly. It’s your trip too. If you wanna go home, we can go home right now.”

Timmy seems to think about it for a second, weighing his options. He had been hesitant to leave just this morning for the trip, so how will this change things?

With a final shake of his head, Timmy blurts, “No, we’re not turning back now. I’m fine anyways. It was...stupid for me to get so worked up about something like that.”

And that just--no. No, Armie will not have Timmy thinking like this. He pulls Timmy back and looks him in the eye, serious and stern. “Hey, none of that. You have no reason to think that way. If something made you upset, it made you upset. Especially if it’s something like literal assault, Timmy. No one deserves that. And certainly not you.”

Timmy looks away, ashamed, doubtful. “Yeah, sure.”

“Timmy--”

“Armie...please. Let’s just move on from this. Can we at least move on?” Timmy asks, begging his boyfriend while still unable to meet his eye.

Armie is reluctant. He wants to scream, this is important! This is a problem! We need to address this situation and understand it better! But he knows that Timmy won’t take well to that. He knows his lover will just crawl right back into his shell. So he agrees, nodding his head with a frown on his face.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Let’s get going, then.”

He then crawls into the front seat with Timmy, obviously taking the driver’s side. When he unlocks his phone to put their location in the GPS again, he sees that he had about five minutes left on his alarm.

Close enough, he thinks to himself. Close enough.

\--

They finally get to Chicago around midnight. They end up renting a room at some dingy hotel that they can afford because Armie can see that Timmy is still a little shaken up from the events that occurred earlier. He figures the boy would be more at ease in a room rather than the back of a van.

They shower together, but they don’t do much else. They simply wash each other’s bodies in silence. The whole time Armie has a nagging feeling that Timmy wants to tell him something, but he has no clue as to what.

Armie’s in bed before Timmy, watching the boy rummage around the room, drying his wet curls with a towel, brushing his teeth, washing his face. His actions cause a mess that leaves behind his various objects spread across the room. He’s messy in that way, but Armie can’t help but smile at it.

“And, scene,” Armie jokes as Timmy finally turns off the lights and climbs under the covers with his boyfriend. He immediately pulls Timmy to his chest, and Timmy doesn’t hesitate to snuggle into his shirt himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Timmy responds to Armie’s nagging.

They sit there silently for a few beats after that. Armie can feel the stiffness in Timmy’s body. Something’s wrong.

“I’m sorry for...how I reacted earlier. It was...It was stupid. I shouldn’t have gotten so riled up,” Timmy suddenly says, running his hand up and down Armie’s side.

Armie soon becomes a little...well...angry. Not at Timmy. Not at his reaction. Not at himself, even. He’s angry at the situation, the circumstances. Who hurt Timmy so bad that he feels his reaction was unwarranted? Who let him think this way?

“Hey, it wasn’t stupid. At all. It was a scary situation and you panicked, like any normal person would,” Armie tries to justify. It seemingly doesn’t sit well with Timmy.

“You wouldn’t have reacted like that,” Timmy mumbles, lifting his head a bit to look his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Did you hear the part where I said ‘normal person?’” Armie grins. Timmy huffs some air out of his nose at that, clearly not finding it very funny. Backpedal, backpedal. This is serious. “Really, Timmy. You don’t have to be...embarrassed or anything for how you reacted. It was wrong. Very wrong. You shouldn’t be treated like that.”

Timmy abruptly pulls away from Armie, instead laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Armie lays on his side and watches him, assuming he needs space.

“I wouldn’t have reacted so...dramatically if it hadn’t been for,” he pauses to look down at his hands, playing with his nails, “things...that have happened earlier.”

Armie bites his tongue when he wants to defend Timmy again, wanting to scream, you’re not dramatic! But he knows there’s no getting through to him. So instead, he encourages him, “What things?”

Timmy shrugs, embarrassed. “I don’t know, just...stuff.” His voice trembles.

“What stuff, baby?”

“Just,” Timmy begins, wringing his fingers together. “My ex.”

It all comes back to Armie then. Well, it doesn’t really come back, because Armie worries about how Timmy deals with this past all the time, but it does hit him all at once again. The only thing he’s heard about this ex-boyfriend is what Timmy’s mother told him, which was that his name was Luke and he was abusive to Timmy. That’s all he knows, nothing else. He always waited for Timmy to bring it up himself. He didn’t want to push his boyfriend in any way. And now that it’s finally being brought up, Armie feels his heart sink, because he knows Timmy will have to relive those memories.

“Okay…” Armie eggs on, wanting so badly to touch Timmy, but he doesn’t want to startle him.

“I know you know about Luke, Armie.”

Armie freezes at that. “I…”

“You’ve never asked. About any of my ex’s. It was like you were trying to keep yourself from asking. Like you were holding back,” Timmy mumbles, still staring at his hands. 

Armie should’ve known. With the connection the two have, Timmy can read Armie like a book. “I don’t know much,” Armie offers. “Your mother really only told me his name and...the...dynamic you two had,” he says, not really sure how to word it. He prays that nothing he says offends Timmy.

Timmy seems distant when he says, “There was no dynamic. It was… He abused me, Armie.” His voice is shaking so badly.

Armie thinks before he speaks his next words. What is he to say? “Timmy, I’m...I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Timmy doesn’t acknowledge the apology. Instead, he continues on.

“He was good at first. Sweet, caring, thoughtful. I...I thought I loved him,” Timmy confesses as he plays with his nails again. “But when he found out about my epilepsy...it all went downhill.”

Armie holds his breath, preparing for the worse.

“He started calling me crippled and...the r word when I would have absences or partials. And then he started not letting me go out in public with him because he was embarrassed. I never got to meet his family either for the same reason. He was...ashamed of me. And he told me all the time that I should be ashamed of myself, too. ‘Do you know what you look like when you shake like that? You ought to be embarrassed too!’” Timmy says, mocking his boyfriend in what Armie assumes was a bad fight.

“Timmy, that’s just--”

“I would apologize too,” Timmy recounts, cutting Armie off. “I always felt like shit when I would have a seizure in front of him or in public, so I would say sorry. It...It didn’t help. He would still yell at me and call me worthless and...just,” Timmy looks up at the ceiling again as he sighs. “I never felt good enough around him.”

Armie knows not to speak now, keeping his mouth shut as Timmy continues.

“And soon, he...he started hitting me. Especially when I would come out of a seizure. He w-would kick me while I was still on the ground or shove me away when I would want his comfort or punch me when my face would be twitching from an absence or something. But...he would keep me around to use me.”

Armie has to swallow hard at that because he physically feels sick at Timmy’s narration. He can’t imagine the type of sick and twisted individual that it would take for someone to be that would cause them to physically and mental harm someone with a disability. He can’t fathom the thoughts that would run through that person’s head. Could they even be considered a person? If they’re as fucked up as Luke was?

“And then,” Timmy mumbles, his voice suddenly getting very wobbly. He sounds like he’s on the edge of tears. “Sometimes, he would…he…”

Armie winces as he watches tears rapidly gather in Timmy’s eyes, his bottom lip trembling. But he still keeps his hands to himself, giving Timmy the space he deserves.

“Baby,” Armie says sympathetically, because that’s all he can really do.

It comes as a surprise when Timmy throws himself into Armie’s arms again, burying his face in his chest and gripping the back of his shirt with such force. He’s now seeking comfort, no longer wanting to be alone. He begins to cry against Armie, and the older doesn’t hesitate to hold the boy closer, hushing him.

“He--” a sharp gasp. “He would…” And then Timmy is sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now,” Armie whispers, his own body shaking as the force of Timmy’s sobs jerk them both.

“He would rape me,” Timmy finally sobs out. “When I would come out of a seizure or...was having an absence or...something! When I would come to, he’d be...inside of me,” the boy cries.

And now Armie truly feels like he’s going to vomit. He can’t imagine someone taking advantage of Timmy when he’s like that. He’s witnessed Timmy after a seizure, and it’s not a pretty sight. The poor boy can’t do anything, much less defend himself against such a monstrous person. It pains him to think about Timmy in that state, unable to do much but sit there and be confused as to why it’s happening. It’s almost incomprehensible.

Armie would be crying too if it wasn’t for his anger. It’s boiling inside him. “Oh, Timmy.”

“I didn’t want it, Armie. I didn’t,” Timmy cries, letting go completely after finally getting something so large off his chest.

“Shhh, I know, honey. I know you didn’t. That’s just...god, Timmy. That’s so fucking awful. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that,” Armie whispers as he holds the boy tighter.

“No, Armie… I deserved it. I-I stayed with him. I was the idiot for not leaving,” Timmy sobs.

Armie’s heart shatters once again. “No. No, that is not true at all, Tim. You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. That’s just how abusive relationships work. The victim will feel like they have no other choice. Like they can’t leave even if they wanted to. You felt trapped, baby,” Armie tries to convince his lover.

Timmy hesitates, trying to catch his breath for a few seconds. He balls Armie’s shirt into his hands again before begging, “I don’t want this to change anything between us. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Armie shakes his head in disbelief. “No, of course not, Timmy. That would never change what we have. I love you way too much for that.”

“I-I love you too. So fucking much,” Timmy says, finally lifting his head a bit to kiss Armie’s jaw. His tears leave some wetness there, but Armie doesn’t mind. He never minds.

“Thank you for telling me,” Armie says as he looks down at Timmy’s soaked, glistening eyes. That reminder must trigger embarrassment in Timmy because he immediately buries his face into Armie’s chest again. “I’m glad I know now.”

Timmy sniffles. “Me too, I guess.”

Armie keeps his worried thoughts to himself. How had Timmy dealt with this so long? Does he feel safe around Armie or does he still keep his distance? Armie’s not sure if he wants to know.

No more words are spoken after that. They both decide that it’s time to go to sleep, being that they have a big day in the city tomorrow. They simply hold each other close and try to act like they can move on from Timmy’s heinous past, but they both know that it’s highly unlikely.

\--

They wake up the next day and have a surprisingly amazing time in the city of Chicago.

They spent a few hours at the Navy Pier, riding rides and stuffing their faces with fried foods. It was a great time. They eventually decided to go to Cloud Gate too, also known as the giant bean in Millennium Park. This was where Timmy thought it would be funny to get down on one knee and act like he was proposing to Armie, to which many strangers believed. Armie’s face had turned a bright red and he tried to pull Timmy to his feet, telling him to stop fucking around. But Timmy only continued to play up the act, asking Armie why he won't marry him, what he’s done to deserve this, all while knowing he’s making Armie look like the biggest asshole. Armie still has to get him back for that.

They got some good food for dinner before finally leaving the beautiful city around 6 pm, hoping to make it to the campsite in Iowa City in a reasonable time.

The entire car ride, they talk about anything and everything but Luke. Armie’s not sure if he appreciates it or despises it to its core. He feels like it’s definitely something that needs to be addressed, talked through, understood, but he can also see how Timmy just wants to forget about the whole thing and move on so they can enjoy their trip. He’s torn.

When they get to the campsite, Armie is sure to park the van far away from any others, though there’s close to no one around due to it being March. He wants to make sure that he and Timmy can have their privacy.

After parking the car, Armie wastes no time in throwing himself onto the mattress in the back, Timmy giggling at him as he does so.

“Come back here and kiss me, you fool,” Armie chuckles as Timmy follows, crawling onto the dingy mattress as well. He gives Armie a sweet, slow kiss.

Armie reaches into his bag to pull out a joint that he had rolled earlier, grinning at Timmy who only scoots closer and warms his hands in Armie’s lap. Armie winks at Timmy as he lights it, taking a long drag before blowing it out. 

“Are you trying to hotbox the van?” Timmy asks with mock surprise.

“Are you trying to smoke outside and get caught?” Armie says back, taking another drag. “You didn’t forget we were in Iowa, did you?”

Timmy fakes an angry glare before poking Armie in the side and stealing the joint. He takes multiple long drags, blowing some in Armie’s face just to spite him. He hogs the joint the whole time they’re smoking it, just like he always does, but Armie doesn’t mind. He wants Timmy to enjoy himself.

Armie takes the last pull before putting the joint out against the metal wall of the van and throwing the bud somewhere up front, not caring much about its whereabouts being that he’s now on cloud nine. “Later,” he says as he flicks it.

Timmy gasps, playfully punching his boyfriend as he chastises, “Armie!” with a laugh.

“What?” Armie asks with a grin. “This van is already a piece of shit anyway.”

“You better find that before we return the van,” Timmy giggles again as he watches Armie lay down in the bed, stretching his body out like he’s sunbathing. Timmy straddles Armie then, placing his hands on the older’s chest and smiling down at him. He appears to study Armie’s face for a second, head hitting the ceiling, hooded eyes filled with love and lust. He then finally leans down and captures Armie’s lips in a deep kiss. Armie groans into Timmy’s mouth as their tongues slide against each other’s, their lips moving in sync.

Timmy lets out a quiet moan as he grinds down onto Armie. Armie responds by moving his hands from Timmy’s waist to his ass, sliding his hands underneath the fabric there and squeezing Timmy’s bare skin, hard. 

“Armie…” Timmy gasps, moving his mouth away from Armie’s to instead suck on his boyfriend’s neck.

Armie chuckles as he feels Timmy already growing hard in his pants, his hard on not far behind. He bucks his own hips up to meet the younger’s humps, making the boy pull in another sharp breath. Armie then slides his hands under Timmy’s shirt and starts to lift it up his torso, Timmy sitting up and pulling the fabric over his head to assist Armie in getting him undressed. In the meantime, Armie pulls his own shirt off, throwing it to the side somewhere.

Timmy continues to grind down, but before he can lean forward to bring Armie’s lips to his mouth again, Armie pinches his nipples and makes him arch his back, letting out a quiet groan.

Something hits Armie all at once then: does Timmy want this? He’s never had to question it before. He’s never pushed Timmy’s limits, at least that he knows of. And Timmy has never shown discomfort while they were having sex before. But for some reason now, after finding out that Timmy had been taken advantage of by his ex-boyfriend, what is he to think?

What if Timmy really doesn’t want this? What if Armie is forcing himself on Timmy without even knowing? Is he taking advantage of him, being that neither of them are sober? Should he be doing this right now?

Suddenly, Armie’s hands just stop. He stares wide eyed up at Timmy, moving his hands to a safer position on the boy’s hips, “Wait…”

Timmy looks down at him, confused, worried. “What?” he says, a little breathless.

Armie feels like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth, unable to find the words. “Is this...alright? Do you want this?” he asks reluctantly.

Timmy looks down at him with a bewildered expression as he places his palms flat across Armie’s chest. “What?” he questions, disbelief etched in his voice.

Armie chews his lip. “It’s just that...I wanted to make sure...that you actually want to do this. And that I’m not pushing you or...forcing you to…” he’s not really sure how to finish that sentence. His cheeks go red as Timmy looks at him like he’s being ridiculous. He feels embarrassed for even bringing it up.

Now he’s ruined the moment.

Timmy’s eyebrows pinch together at Armie’s words. He breaks eye contact to look down at Armie’s hands that are now rubbing up and down his thighs. He shakes his head, whispering out, “I knew. I knew this would happen.”

Armie is so confused. Knew what would happen? What happened? 

“What?” he questions. They seem to be saying that a lot tonight.

Timmy only shakes his head, rolling his eyes that have somehow become damp. “I knew it would change things. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have told you.”

And with that, Timmy is crawling off of Armie’s lap and laying on his side next to the older, back facing his boyfriend. Armie is so stunned and confused that he doesn’t even move until he hears Timmy sniffling from where he lays next to him. Why would Timmy be upset that he told Armie something so detrimental to their relationship? 

His frozen body finally allows him to move, and he has his hand on Timmy’s shoulder in no time. “Whoa, whoa, hey. No, don’t say that. Why would you say that?”

Armie feels Timmy’s jerk with a silent sob as the boy tries to compose himself before speaking. “Y-You...see me different now. You...think I’m dirty and a whore. I’m just a used whore.”

Armie can definitely say that he’s never felt his heart shatter so fast in his life. Of course, what Timmy is saying cannot be further from the truth, but does that mean his words are what he thinks of himself? Is this how Timmy sees himself? A wash up, ready for the taking? No, Armie will not have it. He just won’t.

“Tim, look at me right now,” Armie says as he makes Timmy flip over onto his back. He’s met with Timmy’s terribly sad eyes, eyelashes clumped together with tears. He holds the boy’s cheek. “I would never, ever think you’re dirty. Ever. Especially because of something you couldn’t control. Don’t ever think for a second that I don’t think you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

Timmy tries to put a smile on his pitiful face. It’s wobbly and small, but it’s there. He brings his hand up to run through Armie’s hair. “Armie, you don’t have to have sex with me if you don’t want to. I would never want you to think that…”

Armie’s face crumbles. He leans forward to capture Timmy’s lip in his, the younger sighing happily and holding Armie’s face with both of his hands. Armie pulls back, promising, “Of course, I want to have sex with you, Timmy. I just wanted to make sure that you did too. This should be a mutual thing.”

Timmy looks down, ashamed. He seems embarrassed for how he reacted. “I’m sorry, Armie. I want this, so much, and I was just worried that--”

Armie kisses Timmy’s eyelids, taking away as much pain as he physically can. “You never have to worry about me wanting you, Tim. God, I...I need you.” He continues to kiss all around Timmy’s face as the younger slides his hands down to Armie’s biceps and squeezes. “I just want you to be happy. I want to make you feel good.”

Timmy wraps his arms around Armie’s neck then, pulling him closer before he kisses his temple. “Christ, Armie. I want to make you feel good too,” he guarantees.

Armie moves his hands down to the backs of Timmy’s thighs and pulls them up, encouraging his boyfriend to wrap his legs around his waist. Timmy immediately complies, moaning softly, right next to Armie’s ear. Armie can feel his erection growing once again, and soon Timmy is bucking his hips up to meet Armie’s.

Armie huffs into Timmy’s neck, trying to compose himself. “Is this okay?” he asks breathlessly.

Timmy digs his nails into Armie’s shoulders, his arms still locked tight around the older’s neck. “Yes, please. Please, Armie…”

Armie pulls back to meet Timmy’s lips again, licking into the other’s mouth. Consuming him, claiming him. He keeps that contact as he slowly works Timmy’s pants off of his legs. He then pulls away so he can remove his own, unlatching his belt and whipping it through the loops. Timmy busies himself by digging through Armie’s bag to retrieve lube.

“Armie,” Timmy calls, as he holds the lube out. He puts a generous amount onto Armie’s fingers and an equally generous amount into his own hand.

“Lay back, baby,” Armie whispers as he hovers over Timmy again. 

He slips between Timmy’s gorgeous open legs again, his lover’s ankles locking at the small of his back. He watches Timmy for a few seconds then, just taking in his beauty. His curls are a mess, jumbled and falling into his face. His eyes are full of desire, his lips red and swollen, falling open as the boy watches Armie himself. Armie bites back a groan as Timmy reaches for himself, giving his base a nice squeeze before he pulls his fist back up in a long stroke.

Stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Armie buries his face into Timmy’s neck again, letting out a low moan as his bare cock brushes Timmy’s leg. He reaches down between the both of them with his lubed hand and strokes Timmy’s tight hole, loving the way it responds to his touch.

Timmy arches his back a bit, trying to meet Armie’s hand. He’s impatient, and it only makes Armie smile. “Arms...please.” He looks totally wrecked while saying it, and Armie hasn’t even gotten started.

Armie pushes into him then, his finger all the way in to his knuckle. Timmy curses under him as he begins to pant into Armie’s ear. The older works his way in and out, his slicked up finger opening Timmy at an agonizing pace. He wants nothing more than to devour his lover right here, but he knows he needs to be cautious for Timmy’s safety.

Timmy lets out a sob as Armie curls his finger and just barely brushes his prostate. The younger wraps his free arm around Armie’s neck, holding onto him for dear life. “Shit…”

“More?” Armie asks before he sucks on Timmy’s collarbone.

He feels Timmy nod against his head. “Yeah!” he cries. “More, Armie.”

Armie doesn’t hesitate to comply. He adds another finger alongside the other, working both into Timmy’s body. He curls them simultaneously, driving Timmy absolutely mad as he begins to scissor his fingers inside the boy. 

He focuses on the sweet sounds Timmy is making as his fingers brush across his prostate over and over again. He lets out a moan into Timmy’s neck as he feels his lover stroking himself faster, his stomach clenching at the feeling of his fist moving against his abdomen. Timmy breathes harder, strokes even faster. It’s too much and too little at the same time.

“Slow down, slow down,” Armie reminds Timmy, fearful that the boy will blow his load before they can even get started.

Timmy whimpers. “Arms, please. I-I want you.”

“Almost,” Armie says as he adds a third.

He works into Timmy thoughtfully now, wanting the boy to slow down and feel the pleasure in everything they do. He wants him to feel his love. And when he moves his fingers just right, one last time, Timmy just about jumps out of his skin with pleasure. He gasps, pulling Armie’s hair and trying to grind down on his lover’s hand. It’s truly incredible to witness.

“Oh, fuck,” Timmy whispers. Armie feels him stop his hand, afraid of losing it all too soon. “Armie, now. I need you now.”

Armie agrees, pulling back to kiss Timmy deeply for a few seconds before he’s pulling back and saying, “Turn over, baby,” as sweetly as he can. It’s not hard for him to do when talking to Timmy. The boy just naturally brings it out of him.

Timmy immediately obeys, turning onto his side so that his back is now facing Armie. Armie falls onto his side too and gently presses his chest to Timmy’s flushed back. He kisses the younger’s neck gingerly, placing his hand flat onto the boy’s soft tummy. He feels the way Timmy’s heaving against him. He dwells on it, drowns in it, craves it to no end.

He places one of his arms under Timmy’s neck and moves his other down to Timmy’s leg. He gently pushes the leg up so that the boy’s knee bends and he can bring his thigh closer to his chest, giving Armie easier access to his opening.

Armie starts working his way into Timmy then, gasping at the feeling of Timmy taking him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Holy shit,” Timmy whispers. 

Armie presses in further, using his hand to slide into Timmy as tender as he can. “You okay?” he asks, just to be sure. 

It comes as no surprise when Timmy eagerly nods, tilting his head back and using his free hand to reach behind him for Armie’s hair. He grips and tugs, and that’s just about an answer enough for Armie to push the rest of the way into Timmy’s delicious heat. When he bottoms out, he can’t help but let out a deep moan into the back of Timmy’s neck.

Armie gives Timmy a few seconds to adjust, but before he knows it, Timmy is begging him, “Move, move, move.”

So Armie does. He starts slow, placing his hand back on his lover’s tummy as he glides in and out, letting him get used to the motion. He feels such a deep connection in slow moments like these because there’s nothing getting in their way. No doubts, no secretes, no frantic strive to finish each other off. It’s special and sacred. It’s these moments that he realizes how much he loves Timmy--the moments where they’re buried deep inside each other, no way for them to be physically closer than they are. And somehow, that closeness is still not enough.

“God, I love you,” Armie pants against Timmy. He’s aware that he’s quick to get emotional during sex, but he sees no problem with it being that the one he’s becoming so soft for is Timmy, who he’d live and die for.

Timmy lets go of his own dick to grip the hand that Armie has pressed against his abdomen. “I love you so fucking much, Armie.”

Eventually, Armie decides to pick up the pace, loving it sweet and slow but also knowing that it absolutely wrecks Timmy when he gives it to him good and hard. With that in mind, he moves his hand away from Timmy’s stomach to instead grab the leg that he had pulled up to his chest. He grips the soft, pale skin, reveling in its fragility. 

The way his one hand can just about wrap around Timmy’s entire thigh is driving him mad. He lifts the leg up into the air, holding it at an angle he knows Timmy loves. When he starts thrusting into his boyfriend at a faster pace, the boy gasps and moves his hand from his tummy back to his cock, jerking it in time with Armie’s movements.

“Yeah…” Timmy moans, tilting his head back further. He tucks his face into Armie’s arm that lays under his head. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Armie growls into his lover’s ear. Timmy whines back at him.

Armie then starts snapping his hips against Timmy’s ass even faster. He pressed in deep and meaningful, gripping the leg he’s holding in the air even harder. He knows it’ll leave a bruise, but he also knows how much Timmy loves it. The sound of their skin slapping together brings him close, but what really almost sends him over the edge is the way Timmy cries out when he angles his hips just right.

“Ah! Fuck, Armie,” he shouts, pulling Armie hair even harder. “Right there, right there!”

“Fuck,” Armie mumbles to himself as he pounds into Timmy relentlessly. His heat surrounding him, his desperate moans. Armie feels the leg he’s holding start to tremble as Timmy’s overtaken with pleasure.

Armie feels dizzy with arousal as he feels Timmy start to shake all over. The younger can’t do much but chant Armie’s name at this point, frantically stroking his own dick, squeezing at the head each time Armie’s hips meet his ass. And Armie is sure, as he stares at this scene now, that he’s never loved a human being as much as he loves Timmy. Never.

“Fuck, Tim. You’re so good. So good.”

Timmy starts breathing more rapidly, clearly nearing his end. “I’m...Arms…” he whines. “Armie, Armie, Armie.”

Armie gets the hint. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

Timmy wildly nods, never so sure of something in his life. “Yes! I’m...I’m close.”

Armie then lets go of Timmy’s leg that he’s holding in the air and flips the younger onto his stomach, his lover’s face now pressed into the sheets as he continues to cry out, even sobbing. He then starts pounding into him from the back, having to hold Timmy’s hips up himself because the younger has become so gone and overridden with pleasure to even think about holding himself up.

He pummels into him with no give, knowing Timmy is just on the edge. He knows because his lover starts cursing in French, mind cloudy. It drives Armie absolutely crazy, and he can’t get enough.

“Come on, babe. Come for me, Tim,” Armie encourages.

Timmy turns his head to the side to look over his shoulder at Armie, meeting his eye, telling him that he’s wrecked him to his core. This eye contact is what sends him, because soon Armie feels the unmistakable pressure of Timmy clenching around his boyfriend as he unloads, pressed between himself and the mattress. He pinches out a high pitched moan as he spills, his entire body trembling with stimulation.

The feeling is too much for Armie, almost causing him to let loose inside Timmy. But thinking better of it, he pulls out just in time to give himself a few tugs before he’s coming all over Timmy’s back, moaning along the way.

“Fuck, baby,” Armie says as he finally finishes, every last drop on him now soaking Timmy’s back.

When Armie flops over to lay next to Timmy, the younger can only turn his head to the side to look at his boyfriend. He offers him a weak smile, but is far too exhausted to do anything else. Armie chuckles at his expenditure.

Armie reaches for Timmy’s bag and pulls out a random shirt that he knows won’t matter because they’ll soon be in a cozy cabin in Idaho with a lovely washing machine and drier. He uses it to wipe off Timmy’s back, smiling sweetly at the boy as he watches Armie with hooded eyes, love gracing his every feature.

“Turn over, angel,” he encourages, helping Timmy turn onto his back. He wipes the semen the coats his stomach and the blanket underneath them, not really worried about the mess because they’re not exactly the cleanest people right now anyway.

When he’s done, Timmy suddenly seems to come back to earth as he scoots closer to Armie with open arms. It’s not an unusual thing; Timmy was often very cuddly after sex. Armie pulls him in with a giggle, nosing his way into the younger’s curls.

“Thank you,” Timmy mumbles, his post-sex emotions getting the best of him.

“Thank you?” Armie laughs.

Armie feels Timmy’s cheeks get hot against his skin before he defends, “No, seriously. I mean...thank you for loving me for who I am.”

Armie runs his hand up and down Timmy’s long spine at that, loving the way Timmy returns the gesture by raking his nails lightly over his shoulder blades. “It’s not a hard thing to do, you know,” he teases.

“Yeah, yeah,” Timmy says with a smile as he abruptly turns around so that his back is pressed against Armie’s chest.

The older spoons Timmy, pressing his hand to his chest, feeling his heart that beats to the same rhythm as his own. Because they are one. He is Timmy and Timmy is him. Timmy’s hands meet his in that exact spot, holding him there like he wants him to feel it. Like he wants him to know that his heart beats for Armie and Armie only.

And that’s how they fall asleep, together in Iowa in the back of an old rental van, using each other for warmth as the stars watch over them. They ignore the covers despite the chill, believing that they need nothing more than each other. For once, Armie thinks, they can pretend everything is okay.

\--

Armie’s not sure how long they’re asleep, but one thing he does know is that it’s still pitch black outside when he suddenly feels Timmy’s arm hit his back with force. It’s enough to jolt him awake, the hit feeling more like a punch than Timmy accidentally bumping into him as he tosses and turns.

Armie sits up a bit, squinting into the dark. “Ah, Tim. What the fuck?” he asks, kind of pissed that the younger woke him up by punching him.

His question is returned with silence, until Timmy’s arm reaches out to punch him again. Then the sound of continuous whimpers leave him.

Is he having a nightmare, Armie thinks.

The confusion makes Armie sit up then, looking to his side to see the outline of Timmy, but the darkness has made it too difficult for him to actually see the boy’s face. All he can comprehend is Timmy’s whimpers and the way his body is jerking. What the hell?

Armie finally reaches for his phone and turns the flashlight on. What he’s met with sends the coldest shock throughout his entire body. Timmy was laying there, facing Armie, but he was clearly having no nightmare. He appears to be in the early stages of a seizure, his arms jerking untimely, his neck straining, face twitching. The noises he’s making are getting worse, and Armie knows he has to act fast.

“Shit, Timmy,” Armie says as he starts preparing for the convulsions. 

His heart is thudding in his ears. Sure, he’s dealt with Timmy’s seizures before. He knows how to handle them. He’s not clueless or anything. But the true fear comes from actually seeing Timmy have a seizure. It’s still not an easy thing to witness, especially not when you’ve only known about your lover’s condition for a whopping 7 months.

The flashlight on his phone serves as his only light as he starts throwing all of their clothes and shit into the front seats to give Timmy as much room as possible. That was always Nicole’s first rule: make sure the area is safe. Timmy starts to sob as he begins pulling the sheets from under him so that he doesn’t get them tangled in his limbs, and Armie is sure to calm him as much as he can.

“It’s okay, Tim. I’ve got you,” Armie says, the panic very evident in his voice. He knows Timmy can’t hear him at this point, both Timmy and Nicole have told him that, but he needs to hear it himself. Timmy will be okay. He will.

His thoughts are all over the place as he thinks about what more he can do. Should he move him outside? No, it’s too late to touch him like that. Plus, he’s naked and would probably freeze to death out there. Should he turn the van on to give them some heat and light? Yes, he decides. He’ll do that.

“Hang on, Timmy. Just hang on,” Armie says as he crawls into the front, jumbling with the keys before finally getting them into the ignition and turning the engine on. He blasts the heat and turns on all the lights.

When he gets back onto the mattress with Timmy, he realizes that the younger is too close to one of the walls. He needs more space. Accepting the fact that Timmy might start seizing in his arms, Armie decides that moving him in the center of the bed would still be much safer. 

With that in mind, he gets his hands under Timmy, his body trembling and stiff as a board. When he tries to meet his boyfriend’s eyes for reassurance, he comes to notice that they’ve already rolled back into his skull. Despite the fact that Timmy is nowhere near conscious to the world around him, his body still registers that he’s being moved, and he tries to fight Armie off like he often did.

“Shhh, no. It’s alright, baby. I’m just moving you into the middle,” Armie promises close to Timmy’s ear. Timmy only lets out a little shout before he’s sobbing all over again.

Armie finally slides the younger into the middle of the bed, knowing he’s going to have to move to the front and watch from afar as his boyfriend seizes, not able to be close to him. Biting his lip, he gives Timmy’s curls one last stroke, promising, “You’ll be okay. Don’t fight it, Timmy. Do you hear me? Do it for me,” before he’s climbing into the front seat, watching from a distance.

It’s eerie watching the convulsions start from so far away, because he’s never seen Timmy seize alone, but he has to. This has to be done. It begins with his arms, like it often does, his elbows locking his limbs into place, his wrist bending his hands inward at an angle that is terrifyingly unnatural. Then the legs start, kicking out like a dog trying to run in their dreams. His face tenses all at once, his jaw continuously clamping down onto what Armie can only imagine to be his tongue, and only the whites of his eyes show as he blinks rapidly, his green orbs hidden.

“Oh my god,” Armie says to himself, still in disbelief that his boyfriend goes through this. What has he done to deserve this? What have either of them done? Can’t they just enjoy themselves for once?

The thing about epilepsy is that it’s something that cares about who you are or what you are. It can affect anybody. It’s relentless and unforgiving, taking everything from the person who experiences its presence. But despite knowing this, Armie can’t understand how someone as beautiful and strong as Timmy can now be withering uncontrollably right before his very eyes. It’s like he’s a different person, one that Armie isn’t sure if he’ll ever get to know.

Timmy then starts gasping, pulling in as much air as he can with his chest being locked up. It’s a disturbing sound as any, and Armie makes himself talk over the choking and gurgling to avoid hearing it all together. “You’re alright, Tim. It’s okay. Breathe, honey, breathe.”

Armie wonders how they got here, in the middle of Iowa, one second enjoying their life and the next wondering why that exact life has to be theirs. It’s not fair.

Tears gather in Armie’s eyes as he watches Timmy’s back throw him harshly, not letting up even as the younger asphyxiates some saliva into his lungs and begins choking even more.

“Please, Tim. Please…” Armie says to himself, a hand over his mouth. He knows there’s not much he can do until Timmy stops, but it feels like it’ll be an eternity before that happens.

Armie glances at the clock, seeing that less than two minutes has gone by. He can’t understand it. If he didn’t have a physical representation of how long it’s been, Armie would assume that they’ve been going at this for hours at this point.

“Slow down for me, babe. Come on. You’ve got it,” Armie encourages. “You can do it. Come back to me.”

Timmy flips over onto his back then, his straining neck causing his upper back to arch into the air. Armie cringes from the sight of how much force the boy is putting on his spine, but there’s not much more he can do. And on top of all that, the gurgling gets worse.

“Come on, come on,” Armie says as he bites his nails, the clock telling him only another thirty seconds has gone by. “You can do it.”

It’s then that Timmy finally begins to slow. It seems to happen all at once, his legs suddenly still, his arms suddenly relaxed. It almost makes Armie suspicious. Is he actually done? But when he realizes that Timmy has truly stopped and now he’s laying there alone and confused, Armie immediately throws himself into action.

He crawls into the back and kneels on the mattress next to Timmy, finding the boy staring deliriously at the ceiling above him, panting like he’s just run a marathon. He coughs every once in a while, still trying to get the saliva that slipped into his lungs out of his body.

Armie instantly cups his face. “Hey, angel. You did so well for me.”

Timmy doesn’t respond, his eyes still distant and his blinks so heavy he looks like he’ll fall asleep any second now. Armie grabs his chin and gently turns his head to the side, draining the saliva that’s collected in his mouth out onto his cheek. It’s red, infused with blood, evidence of the bite marks that surely like the inside of his cheeks and tongue. Armie can’t imagine.

“Try to catch your breath,” Armie motivates.

He brings his hand up to Timmy’s face and wipes the spit off his cheek, cleaning his hand on the sheet. It stirs Timmy slightly, making the younger turn his head away in distress, Armie’s touching being too much for him.

Timmy groans, trying to push Armie’s hands away. His eyes are still distant, and he clearly has no idea where he is or what just happened.

“You’re alright,” Armie whispers, wanting to give Timmy space but also knowing that physical contact is what really brings the boy back to earth. He delicately tucks Timmy’s curls behind his ear as he hovers over him like a blanket. Protection. “Just relax.”

Timmy turns his head toward Armie’s voice, but his wandering eyes get the best of him, and he’s too lethargic to really get a good look at Armie.

“Timmy, do you know who I am?” Armie asks, beginning the long strife that is getting Timmy to understand his surroundings. Nicole has made it clear to him that it’s very important that he asks Timmy about his surroundings. This gives the boy clarification and makes him less confused and scared when he comes to.

Timmy only groans.

“Tim, look at me,” Armie whispers. Timmy doesn’t comply. “Baby…”

It’s then that Timmy makes his typical move to sit up. He squints into the dim light, wincing in pain as he flexes his abs and gets his arms under himself. He’s surprisingly quick at getting himself up on his elbows, but Armie doesn’t want him to strain himself.

“No, lay down. Just take a few seconds,” Armie says, placing a hand on Timmy’s chest, pushing him down onto the mattress.

This jolts something in Timmy, for he immediately flinches at Armie’s touch on his bare skin. He gasps as he tries to pull away. When Armie looks at his face, he’s met with the terrified expression of his boyfriend, eyes bugging and mouth agape. He looks like he’s...scared...of Armie?

Timmy starts making noises that sound like no, no, no over and over again. Armie doesn’t understand.

“Whoa, what’s the matter?” Armie asks with a frown, trying to reach for Timmy again. To comfort him, to hold him. But Timmy seems to think he has other intentions in mind.

“Stop!” Timmy suddenly mutters, shaking his head. His words are still so slurred that it takes Armie a second to realize what he was saying.

“What?” Armie asks. He’s absolutely bewildered.

Recognition doesn’t seem to register on Timmy’s face. Armie has yet to experience this kind of confusion in his lover before. Of course, Timmy’s woken up without knowledge of who Armie is, but it’s never gone on for this long. And Timmy has never seemed...scared of Armie before.

“Hey, just calm down,” Armie says, trying to reach for Timmy one last time.

This time Timmy lets out a petrified whine. He then begins to scoot himself away from Armie, pushing his body back until his back hits the wall of the van and he has nowhere else to go. His breathing increases rapidly as he starts to panic, but Armie still has no idea why.

“Tim--”

“Please...please…” Timmy cries, somehow finding the strength to push himself into a sitting position against the wall of the van, pulling his knees to his chest.

“I don’t…” Armie says mostly to himself. What the hell is going on?

Timmy buries his chin into his balled up legs. “D-Don’ hur’ me...please,” he begs.

At first, Armie thinks, what?! Why would Timmy think he would hurt him? What has he ever done to make Timmy think he would? But then it hits him like a train, all at once, a heinous chill freezing his body. He thinks back to the other night when Timmy had finally confessed to Armie what his boyfriend would do to him. He would hit him, he would force himself onto him. 

Timmy doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know what just happened, who Armie is, who he himself even is. But he knows one thing: when he usually feels this way, he gets hurt. It was a terrible cycle that he has gotten used to, and now Armie is lost on how to make him think otherwise.

“Timmy, I’m not gonna…” He naively reaches for Timmy again.

Timmy all but screams. “No! I’m sorry, jus’...get away, get away!” he shouts, closing his eyes like he’s bracing for pain. It makes Armie sick.

“Timmy, I...fuck!” he hisses as he runs his hands through his hair.

Because what is he supposed to say? His boyfriend who he just recently found out has experienced abuse in the past has just come out of a seizure and is now too terrified of his experiences to let Armie anywhere near him. 

And how is Armie supposed to explain that to him? Tell him that they’re in the middle of nowhere in rural Iowa, squished up into the back of a rental van, in the process of road tripping across the country? And that the reason it’s pitch black and they’re stripped naked it because just a few hours ago they were making love and not worried about anything else but each other? How is Timmy supposed to take to that?

“Timmy, baby, listen to me. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” Armie begs, knowing now to keep his hands to himself.

Timmy only stares as him, still trembling against the wall of the van.

Armie holds his palms up in surrender, hoping it conveys to Timmy that he truly won’t harm him. “You remember me, right? I’m...I’m your boyfriend. Armie?”

Something flickers in Timmy’s eyes then, but he still holds back.

Armie moves to sit cross legged in front of Timmy. He doesn’t miss the way Timmy shrinks back. “I know you’re so confused and scared right now, but...I love you so much. I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

Timmy then visibly becomes more relaxed, sitting up a bit and looking up at Armie like he hung the stars. The relief washes over Armie with a warm heat, finally letting him breathe as he realizes that he’s finally getting through to Timmy.

“A...Armie…” Timmy says.

“Yes, Timmy,” Armie says, wanting to burst into tears. 

Just as he thinks this, he watches big, fat tears well into Timmy’s eyes as the postictal emotions hit him all at once. He uncurls his body completely as the tears start quickly leaking out of his eyes, drenching his beautiful face with his sorrow. “Armie…” he sobs as he throws himself forward, now knowing that Armie wants nothing more than to make him feel safe.

Armie pulls Timmy into his arms, holding his chest close to his heart as the younger jerks with every sob that forces its way through his body. He rocks them both as Timmy cries against him, realizing how ridiculously terrible this trip has been so far. For some reason, it’s been filled with more tears than happiness.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Armie comforts, but it’s not. This is all so fucked up.

Timmy tries to say something, clawing at Armie’s bare skin, but his foggy mind won’t let his words string together properly, and he ends up making no sense.

“Timmy, do you know where you are?” Armie asks, knowing the boy must still be dreadfully lost.

Timmy shakes his head, trying to swallow down his cries. He’s left with sharp hiccups and a stuffy nose.

“We’re in Iowa. We were on our way to the cabin…” Armie clarifies, purposely using past tense. There’s no way they’re going to make it there now. Absolutely no way.

It takes Timmy a second to respond, but when he does, he mumbles, “Idaho…”

Armie rubs up and down his back. “Yes, baby. We were going to Idaho. But not anymore, okay? I’m going to take you back home to New York. You’re not feeling well.”

Timmy pulls his head back to look up at Armie. “But…” he asks with a frown, never actually finishing his sentence.

Armie wants so badly for Timmy to understand. For him to realize that this is wrong and that what just happened is not normal. He wants Timmy to realize that he’s experienced severe trauma and that he needs to get some help. But he knows that right now, all of this will go over Timmy’s head, so he decides it’s best to wait until tomorrow.

“Let’s get you some clothes on. You need to rest,” Armie says.

With that, he carefully helps Timmy into some sweatpants and a hoodie, snuggling him up before laying the covers over him. His eyes are drooping when Armie leans forward to place a soft kiss on the boy’s dry lips, and he’s out like a light by the time Armie pulls away.

Armie then takes the time to get dressed himself in the small space the van provides. Once he’s in an outfit that seems fit for their drive home, he crawls into the driver’s seat, buckling himself up and pulling out of the campsite. New York, here they come.

\--

Armie is able to drive for quite a while before Timmy stirs. He has to admit, the ride is boring without Timmy there to talk him through it, but he’s sure the true boredom comes from the fact that he’s driving in silence. He wouldn’t dare playing music and risk waking Timmy up.

He’s about four hours in when he hears Timmy groan and the unmistakable sound of him stretching.

“Arms?” he asks.

Armie glances back over his shoulder at the boy, grinning a little at his messy hair. At least some things are still okay. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Timmy rubs his eyes before pushing the blankets off of him. He groans again in what Armie assumes is pain from the ache that is sure to be all over his body following the seizure. He clumsily crawls into the passenger seat, buckling up as he sits next to Armie. He squints at the brightness of the morning sun.

“Did you sleep well?” Armie asks.

Timmy shrugs in response, instead looking out the window at the signs they drive by. It seems to hit him then, and he immediately questions Armie. “Um, why do those signs say we’re going east?”

Armie hesitates, knowing Timmy will be upset with his answer. “Because we are.”

Timmy frowns, looking over at Armie. Armie doesn’t meet his eye. “Why?”

“Because we’re going back to New York,” Armie finally admits. “You had a seizure last night…”

“I had a…” Timmy can’t even finish his sentence. A quick glance to the side tells Armie that Timmy is in complete disbelief. He scoffs, “God, Armie. I’m...I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Armie says, cutting him off immediately. “None of that, do you hear me? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I ruin everything,” Timmy whispers to himself.

Armie reaches over then to grab Timmy’s thigh. He wants him grounded. He wants him to hear what he says and believe it in full because Armie means it in full. “You didn’t ruin anything, Timmy. Really, I...we had a good time. Things just...aren’t ideal.”

Timmy shakes his head, face red with shame. He looks out the window, facing away from Armie. “It’s never going to be ideal.”

Armie squeezes his thigh. “That’s not true--”

“Yeah, sure it’s not,” Timmy chuckles brokenly.

“It’s not,” Armie says softly. “Listen, Tim. We’re gonna...I’m gonna get you some help. You need someone to talk to about all this. About your frustrations, your past--”

Timmy suddenly shoves Armie’s hand off his leg. “I can talk to you.”

“But that’s not enough,” Armie defends. He grabs Timmy’s hand then. He holds it tightly, just like the grip Timmy has on his heart. Timmy doesn’t pull away. “Please, Timmy. Just let me help you. If you don’t like it...we can try something else. I want to do this for you.”

Timmy turns to look at Armie then, almost as if he’s just realizing the love that Armie truly has for him.

“This won’t define you anymore. Okay?” Armie says, glancing between Timmy and the road.

Timmy sighs. “You promise?”

Armie smiles softly. “Promise.”

With that, Timmy seems satisfied for the time being, and Armie feels the same. They can fix this. They can make it better.

Timmy kisses Armie’s knuckles then, turning back to look out the window, but not letting go of his hand for the next several hours until they have to stop again to rest. And yeah, Armie thinks, everything will be okay. He'll be sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> so so SO much angst! i'm sorry! but it's necessary that you guys knew about timmy's past :(
> 
> but again thank you guys SO much for the comments and kudos. they really motivate me! let me know if you want more or if you enjoyed this one. ik it was a big long haha
> 
> i'm still sweettimotea on tumblr if you guys want to chat!  
> <3


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